PapsWeb Our Tune Resurrection

PapsWeb Our Tune Resurrection
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#21

Are you sure this wasn’t a dream or a book or film that you saw?


#22

The Manic Street Preachers “This is yesterday” brings back difficult memories of darker days, so I tend not to listen to it too much anymore, which is a shame.

“And the Gods made love” by Hendrix reminds of a great day spent with a friend (my best friend on fact) on acid and hearing that song for the first time blew us away. It was like being surrounded by noise coming at you every angle. Unfortunately, straight after that we watched that Graham Taylor world cup documentary and I felt really sorry for him, genuinely upset by the way he was treated. Anyway, that song reminds me of happy drug taking days but makes me sad about Graham Taylor.

I like to take more pleasant trips down memory lane by listening to Brand Nubian and Rob Base, which always remind me of care free days. Can’t post links on phone (or at least, cant be arsed to).


#23

Originally posted by @Fatso

Are you sure this wasn’t a dream or a book or film that you saw?

So distant it feels like a dream. Strong memories though. It wasn’t quite Fear and Loathing and does give me an excuse to post some vaguely relatable Americana melancolia


#24

Originally posted by @Halo-Stickman

Originally posted by @Coxford_lou

… at the time I was filled with hope, expectation and excitement for the unknown. The rest of life never quite matched that feeling. I wish I knew how to get it back.

Ah yes, Lou, that cursed arrow of time, moving inexorably forwards; never backwards

Not so much an issue of time, but a momentary sense of freedom and connection. I’ve always listened to / played ‘americana’ music since I was a kid (country, jazz, blues, rockabilly, etc) because I like the sound of people and instruments in quite a raw/intimate way. But, when I listened to this music in the environment it was created - the landscape, the weather, the people…suddenly everything made so much sense. Like everything connected. It’s hard to describe, but so much in life feels enforced - living in cities, our diet, working in offices. Yet every now and then something hits a sweet spot and just makes sense. That feeling makes me feel very free.

Another track from that trip that is fairy unremarkable in its own right, but evoked the environment I was in:

And boy, listening to The Teen Kings in Sun Record Studio just took it to the next level!

Am I talking nonsense, or anyone know what I mean?


#25

Nice post. Early summer days (like today) and this song still give me that feeling:


#26

As does this one:


#27

Originally posted by @Coxford_lou

…Yet every now and then something hits a sweet spot and just makes sense…

Am I talking nonsense, or anyone know what I mean?

I’m tempted to say that if you’re not talking nonsense then you’re in the wrong place.

Instead, I will say that the above is a succinct and very nice way to describe something that I suspect happens to every one of us on occasions; sadly, all too infrequently.


#28

So I’m 12 or 13, and I’m standing around the outside of the school hall in war-torn Gosport. I’m with a group of similarly attired boys, each sipping generic cola and affecting his own brand of faux-nonchalance. We’re watching and taking the piss out of the girls and the odd ‘male’ as they dance to the ‘fast’ songs. We’ve all stowed one hand in a pocket while the other hand clutches our drink; the awkwardness of a non-busy hand is too much for us to manage.

Then this song comes on, and Kim comes up and asks me to dance.

It’s recognised as a slow dance, which means that Kim wants a slow dance with me. This is internationally recognised pubescent code for fancying someone, and the next step is that you kiss and ‘go out’ with each other.

I’m overwhelmed, and I’ve no idea what to do.

I fancy Kim. Everyone fancies Kim. She’s got developed breasts and lets us ping her bra strap. She’s had to place her mouth near to my ear so that I can hear her. We’re intimately close, and I realise that she looks even better at this distance. She’s chewing gum; making her breath smell lovely and minty, which makes me focus on my Cresta-sponsored halitosis.

I realise that she’s taller than me in her heels, and I shrink into my tasseled loafers. She is dressed as a modette, and I wonder if breaking free of the school uniform and wearing attention-grabbing, green and purple tonic trousers was such a good idea.

Kim always had the sort of confidence that breasts and good looks lend to teenage girls, but in my mind’s eye she’s looking really coy, like it’s taken all her courage to cross the hall to speak to me.

I’m aware that all the lads in my year have stopped being nonchalant, and are instead staring at the lucky bastard that has just been asked to dance - asked to dance by Kim.

So obviously I tell her that I don’t want to dance, and we both scuttle back to our respective tribes.

She looks embarrassed, and I’m pulling a face that rhetorically asks “Girls? How stupid are they?”. I know that Monday morning in science is going to be awkward, and that I’ve left her thinking that, not only do I not like her, but that I’m happy to make her look stupid in front of the whole school.

Played, Bletch.

You complete TWAT.


#29

Is it wrong to have done a wank to that story?


#30

Great story, beltch. Sincerely. That is the sort of quality content I am only finding on papsweb!


#31

Originally posted by @Fatso

Is it wrong to have done a wank to that story?

No, but it is wrong to have finished quite so quickly.

I’m still going.


#32

I’m more a quantity over quality chap. I’m on my 4th and have pencilled in some post dinner action as well.


#33

Kim, or Ken as he is now known, never recovered from your refusal Bletch. Evil.


#34

This one is a kinda secret “Our tune” for my wife. I havn’t told her about it because it has to do with my first long term relationship at about 17 to 19 years old. My two year GF decalred one day that this was our tune, so I thought “Oh, OK then” a year or so later she dumped me and left me all heartbroken and stuff. I especially missed her great booblies. After that I met somebody I met at a witch burning. I had rescued her from the post she was tied to and stayed married to her for 23 years, even after realising that she was tied to that stake for a very good reason. I had tried to leave her, but I found that I couldn’t, as we already had a baby girl who I had to get back to in order to save her from being eaten.

As soon as my daughter left home at 18 (She has since told me that she left to get away from her mother) I also ran away from home to be with my current, and totally wonderful non-witch wife…Every day since then has been more valuable to me than any entire year from my past adulthood.

So while not directly linked to my wife, this song always reminds me of the long and harrowing path it took for me to finally find exactly what I had always wanted and needed in a partner, and makes me appreciate that even if I seemingly wasted half a lifetime, just one special person can make everything right in the end.

So, while it is not a proper "Our tune’ When I hear it, I now apply it to the real love of my life. The lyrics fit her perfectly, but it also puts the demons of the past into the place they belong. In the past.

Edit: um…Booblies.


#35

And a cracking song too Ohio.


#36

I have bletch locked in a cage. Bletches like a cage. Everytime he gets settled, I poke him with sharp stick and scream “be funny, butler bitch!”.

This total commitment to quality content is the papsweb difference.


#37

Originally posted by @Ohio-Saint

This one is a kinda secret “Our tune” for my wife. I havn’t told her about it because it has to do with my first long term relationship at about 17 to 19 years old. My two year GF decalred one day that this was our tune, so I thought “Oh, OK then” a year or so later she dumped me and left me all heartbroken and stuff. I especially missed her great booblies. After that I met somebody I met at a witch burning. I had rescued her from the post she was tied to and stayed married to her for 23 years, even after realising that she was tied to that stake for a very good reason. I had tried to leave her, but I found that I couldn’t, as we already had a baby girl who I had to get back to in order to save her from being eaten.

As soon as my daughter left home at 18 (She has since told me that she left to get away from her mother) I also ran away from home to be with my current, and totally wonderful non-witch wife…Every day since then has been more valuable to me than any entire year from my past adulthood.

So while not directly linked to my wife, this song always reminds me of the long and harrowing path it took for me to finally find exactly what I had always wanted and needed in a partner, and makes me appreciate that even if I seemingly wasted half a lifetime, just one special person can make everything right in the end.

So, while it is not a proper "Our tune’ When I hear it, I now apply it to the real love of my life. The lyrics fit her perfectly, but it also puts the demons of the past into the place they belong. In the past.

Edit: um…Booblies.

Ohio, that’s harsh, just because a lady is flat-chested, doesn’t make her a witch.


#38

Originally posted by @Fatso

I’m more a quantity over quality chap. I’m on my 4th and have pencilled in some post dinner action as well.

Masturbation moderated by mastication.

Enjoy.


#39

There are another two parts to the Kim story, Gay Boot.

One of these happened at a later shool disco, and I can set that to music, the other I’m struggling with.

I’ll share part two when I’ve got a mo.


#40

So, I’m about 10 years old, and football is my life. I’m playing for the school team, playing for a weekend team, playing “gate football” in the back alley with my mates after school, and I’m training on Tuesday evenings with the men’s team that my mate’s dad manages. *

I also enjoy writing, and recently got a second-hand typewriter for my birthday. I’m starting to get interested in words - their rhythms and meanings are starting to become, what will eventually lead to a life-long obsession for me. (But that’s probably not news).

But music?

No, not really. I can’t fit anything else into my life. There just isn’t room.

My sister is 10 years older than me at the time - still is as a matter of fact. And she is interested in music. Her musical tastes are largely driven by the current bloke that is taking her up the alley - to the George and Dragon at the time.

Luckily for her, and me as it turns out, my sister is partial to sailor-flesh and sailor-cash. This means that she ensnares lots young beaus that come ashore on the next tide, and introduce her to new positions and new music in equal measure.

I’ve largely ignored her musical tastes up to this point, because the noises coming from the Russian record player in her bedroom as she gets ready to go out of an evening, just don’t penetrate my brain.

It’s just a noise.

But that all changes when she starts dating a bloke from Scotchland. He introduces her to whatever passes for foreplay north of the border (Toke?), as well as some bloke called Ian Dury.

Despite my attention being on other things, I quickly realise that there is something different about the noise that Ian Dury and The Blockheads makes. This particular noise starts to make its way into my brain. There is something special about it, which I have since realised was a marriage between fantastically tight music and quirky, story-telling lyrics.

There is also something forbidden about this particular album. I remember listening to my sister chatting about the album with a friend - saying that it was “so rude” and asking “what about that song on side two?”.

As any self-respecting 10 year old would do, I made it my mission to find out more. So for months, I waited until my sister went out, and then I snuck into her room to play New Boots and Panties on a really low volume so Mum and Dad didn’t hear.

For the first several weeks I can’t get past the first few songs on side one. I’m completely captivated by the marriage between lyric and rhythm, and I’m desperately trying to learn all of the words and sing them at the same speed as Dury.

I’d sit on the floor next to the speaker with the album cover in my hands, and stare at this weird bloke on the front who is standing outside a couple of shops, with a child like me at his side.

I’m wondering who he is and what he has to do with the noise that I’m hearing.

I still can’t see why this record is “so rude”, but I know that I love listening to it.

Eventually I decide to go looking for “…that song on side two”. But each time I play side two, I can’t get past Clevor Trever(sic) with its bastardisation of the language featuring more double negatives than you could shake a word bore at. I’m listening hard to the lyric of every song, trying to analyse if it might be “…that song”, but nothing really jumps out as obviously “rude”.

Until one day, I hit “…that track”.

And when “…that track” starts I nearly shit myself. I realise immediately that I’ve found “…that track” and I panic. I turn off the record player, run back to my room, run back again to put away the album so my sister doesn’t know what I’ve been up to, and finally, once again on my own bed, I start to giggle like, well like a child.

I remember that feeling so well.

The track in question? Plaistow Patricia, track five on side two.( NSFW - from the very outset as they say before GoT ).

I wonder, can many people say that an album really changed their lives?

Or can others pinpoint the moment that they became a fan of music?

I can on both counts. I’ve since reflected on these events, and I’ve realised that during that furtive 2-3 month period Ian Dury gave me a life-long love of music and words, and especially music and lyrics together.

And yes, buying my own copy in my late teens/early twenties made me realise that the rest of the album is pure filth - not just the expletive laden track five on side two.

Apologies for the length of the post, but I’m afraid I can’t sign-off without giving you a more representative view Dury’s magnum opus.

Clevor Trever

…and lyrics

Just cos I ain’t never 'ad, no, nothing worth having
Never ever, never ever
You ain’t got no call not to think I wouldn’t fall
Into thinking that I ain’t too clever
And it ain’t not having oen thing nor another
Niether, either is it anything, whatever
And it’s not not knowing that thier ain’t nothign showing
And I answer to the name of Trever, however

Just cos I ain’t never said, no, nothing worth saying
Never ever, never ever, never ever
Things 'ave got read into what I never sad, 'till me mouth becomes me 'ead
Which ain’t not all that clever
And it’s not not saying one thing nor another
Neither, either is ist anything I haven’t said, whatever
And it ain’t not proving that me mind ain’t moving
And I answer to the naem of Trever, however

Knock me down with a feather
Clever Trevor
Widebrows wonder wether Clever Trevor’s clever
Either have they got
Nor neither haven’t not
Got no right to make a clot
Our of Trevor

Why should I feel bad about something I ain’t 'ad
Such stupidness is mad cos nothing underfoot
Comes to nothing less to add to a load of old toot
And I ain’t half not half co there’s nowhere to put it
Even if I 'ad i’m a bit of a Jack the Lad

Knock me down with a feather
Clever Trevor
Widebrows wonder wether Clever Trevor’s clever
Either have they got
Nor neither haven’t not
Got no right to make a clot
Our of Trevor

Wake up and Make Love to me

…and lyrics

I come awake with a gift for womankind
You’re still asleep but the gift don’t seem to mind
Rise on this occasion, halfway up your back
Sliding down your body, touching your behind.

You look so self-possessed
I won’t disturb your rest
It’s lovely when you’re sleeping
But wide awake is best.

Wake up and make love with me, wake up and make love
Wake up and make love with me
I don’t want to make you, I’ll let the fancy take you
And you’ll wake up and make love.

You come awake in a horny morning mood
And have a proper wriggle in the naughty naked nude
Roll against my body, get me where you want me
What happens next is private, it’s also very rude.

I’ll go and get the post
And make some tea and toast
You have a lover’s sleep, love
It’s me that needs it most.

Wake up and make love with me, wake up and make love
Wake up and make love with me
I don’t want to make you, I’ll let the fancy take you
And you’ll wake up and make love.

Wake up and make love with me, wake up and make love
Wake up and make love with me, wake up and make love
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up.

Billericay Dickie

…and lyrics

(spoken)
Good evening I’m from Essex
In case you couldn’t tell
My given name is Dickie, I come from Billericay
And I’m doing very well

Had a love affair with Nina
In the back of my Cortina
A seasoned up hyena could not have been more obscener
She took me to the cleaners
And other misdemeanours
But I got right up between her
Rum and her Ribena

Well, you ask Joyce and Vicki
If candy-floss is sticky
I’m not a blinking thicky
I’m Billericay Dickie
And I’m doing very well

I bought a lot of brandy
When I was courting Sandy
Took eight to make her randy
And all I had was shandy
Another thing with Sandy
What often came in handy
Was passing her a ‘Mandy’
She didn’t half go bandy

So you ask Joyce and Vicki
If I ever took the mickey
I’m not a flipping thicky
I’m Billericay Dickie
And I’m doing very well

I’d rendezvous with Janet
Quite near the Isle of Thanet
She looked more like a gannet
She wasn’t half a prannet
Her mother tried to ban it
Her father helped me plan it
And when I captured Janet she bruised her pomegranet

So you ask Joyce and Vicki
If I ever shaped up tricky
I’m not a blooming thicky
I’m Billericay Dickie
And I’m doing very well

You should never hold a candle if you don’t know where it’s been
The jackpot is in the handle on a normal fruit machine

So you ask Joyce and Vicki
Who’s their favourite brickie
I’m not a common thicky
I’m Billericay Dickie
And I’m doing very well

I know a lovely old toe-rag obliging and noblesse
Kindly, charming shag from Shoeburyness

My given name is Dickie
I come from Billericay
I thought you’d never guess

So you ask Joyce and Vicki
A pair of squeaky chickies
I’m not a flaming thicky I’m Billericay Dickie
And I’m doing very well

Oh golly, oh gosh come and lie on the couch
With a nice bit of posh from Burnham-on-Crouch

My given name is Dickie, I come from Billericay
And I ain’t a sloutch

So you ask Joyce and Vicki
About Billericay Dickie
I ain’t an effin’ thicky
You ask Joyce and Vicki
And I’m doing very well

* Did I even mention that I played football Flyd Owl?